


Tomb Raider: From Tomb to Home, From Spirit to Body

by Supermassiveburrito



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, lara - Fandom
Genre: Action, Creampie, Demonic Possession, Demons, Dildos, F/F, Ghost Sex, Gun Violence, Hallucinations, Horror, Lactation, Lesbian Sex, Milking, Other, Rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supermassiveburrito/pseuds/Supermassiveburrito
Summary: Lara Croft returns home with artifacts from her latest adventure and soon finds something came with them.





	Tomb Raider: From Tomb to Home, From Spirit to Body

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my first attempt at an erotic horror story as well as my first attempt at a first person perspective. It features Lara from the pre-reboot continuity. C&C would be very much appreciated.

I leave this account of events known only to myself in that if such a time or circumstance arises that I find myself in need of a fresh record documented directly after the incident, this will remain intact. It is the fifth of May as I write this and the odd occurrences began and took place during the weekend prior. I have reason to suspect that some alteration to my memory may already by at work and so I will attempt to be as thorough in my description of events, emotions and beliefs even at times when doing so would be embarrassing or detrimental to my reputation as I believe there to be important information to gleaned from those times even if the telling sounds more like musings or superlative details without reason. I merely feel it necessary to document not only the actions but also the emotions and beliefs to indicate change in my mental state. Though much of what I will record here will seem impossible or otherwise unrealistic, none of it dwells so far into the absurd as to stand out from other supernatural and curious occurrences I have experienced during my adventures.

It always felt like years had gone by in a distant haze every time I stepped through the doors of my ancestral home upon returning from an adventure no matter how far I had gone or how difficult the journey had been. When my guide suffered the ravaging effect of a venomous snake bite, a trip was canceled due to mechanical failure of my only means of reaching the destination or even the occasional incidents leading to my own brushes with death and injury leading to resignation for fear of a risk becoming more and more unfavorable compared to the reward that might not even exist as rumoured in ancient and cryptic accounts from cultures long since extinct or possibly not fully existing in the first place; the doors would open, I would enter and be greeted by my retainer, the elderly but loyal Winston, and I would sink deep into my bed as if it alone could restore me to my fullest drive and ability for the next hunt.

Even on trips that held no challenge whatsoever, trips such as this latest one, the return home and the short period of rest I made sure to indulge in remained fresh and curative no matter how many times they played out. The warmth of the manor compared to the bitter chill of the storm raging outside was like being submerged in piping hot, homemade cocoa and using the marshmallows therein as pillows to nap on. It was a simple pleasure when compared to the wild and sometimes absurd events I experienced out there in the old and forgotten caves of the world, one I would cherish each and every single time I managed to return.

I handed my drenched coat to Winston, a shaking and quiet old man who had been my retainer and primary butler since the days when my father; Lord Richard James Croft, owned the manor. He had been an adventurer and seeker of treasures and relics to bring into the world of research and archiving, an archeologist also well versed in anthropology who trotted the globe as I now do, and Winston had faithfully served our family both during our prolonged bouts of studying without remembering to prepare proper meals or our outings with little warning of what ungodly time of night we would return home or in what condition or even what we may have brought back with us. But here he was, like always, a weak but sincere smile on his face as his trembling hands fumbled and bumbled with getting the coat up on the high hook. I would have assisted him but a man as hardworking as he, despite age and occasional inability, would find it insulting to not be allowed to complete a simple task on his own lest he himself be the one to request assistance. In truth I couldn't decide whether it it was good that he wasn't present for the events that occurred that weekend or if having him there would have better explained what transpired.

“If it should please you,” he began, his voice soft and almost as wobbly as his hands, “I can postpone my vacation to assist you this weekend.”

“I appreciate that, Winston, but I plan to spend this weekend relaxing and catching up on my reading. I want you to enjoy yourself, as well.”

He was speaking of visiting family for a week and I didn't want to keep him from it. I knew the importance of spending time with loved ones and, though perhaps a tad selfish, it never hurt to have some alone time. I did enjoy Winston's company but I had just spent two weeks on an island with drunken merry-makers keeping me up at night and feverishly attempting to gain my attention during idiotic beach parties. It was a very simple, safe and easy excursion but I had tired of people for the time being.

“All I need before you leave is for you to receive the crate and show the crew where to place it when it arrives in the morning. My contact wasn't prepared to take into the museum's custody just yet so we'll be housing the artifacts here for a time.”

“Of course, Ms. Lara. I do hope you enjoy your personal time.” he said to me as I proceeded up the main stairway leading to my room, not to be dismissive of him but primarily due to jet lag and the late hour of my arrival, “I shall have to relay one of your more engaging exploits to the family. No doubt they will find that most entertaining. I made beef stew and left you some in the fridge. Sleep well, Ms. Lara.”

“You as well, Winston,” I said as I looked down at him while I rounded the railing at the top of the steps, “I expect you to tell me of all the fun you had when you get back.”

He smiled and nodded before I entered the hallway and lost sight of him. The halls were lit by the old lamps but the bulbs were fresh and the carpet recently cleaned. My eyes were losing focus and the paintings on the walls were just blurry rectangles. The only things that retained its solidity and detail were the large double doors leading into the master bedroom. They were left open for me and I shut them slowly as to not slam them in my tired and unthinking state. Winston had also left a glass of water with some ice and a note reminding me how I should always remember how important water is. He was a silly man sometimes but I drank the water anyway. Soon my clothes were tossed away from the bed and I found the last moments of consciousness were spent with my face buried in the fluffy pillows.

I awoke the next day later than my usual routine permitted but I always felt I deserved to sleep in my first night back. The storm had died down but the rains and wind continued to tap and press against the windows, occasionally causing the manor to creak and moan. I stood up and saw a new note and a new glass though the ice had mostly melted.

“Ms. Lara, the crate has been received and placed in the basement as per our usual set up. I left it closed. I have noticed a few windows popping open from the wind and have instructed our usual handyman to inspect all of them at his earliest availability though this will likely be on Monday at the earliest so I apologize if this inconveniences you. I am about to leave as I write this but I have ensured my tasks have been completed beforehand. I will see you soon.  
Winston.”

I remember thinking about how to start that day, whether I would relax after breakfast or perhaps workout. Seeing as my last trip had been incredibly easy with little physical exertion, I chose to engage in a mild workout; some stretching, cardio and maybe some weights.  
I stood and changed into my workout clothes, simply a black exercise bra, black shorts, socks and the proper shoes once I retrieved them from the entrance. I entered the hallway with my headphones on and my attention largely focused on what playlist to put on before deciding on Celtic folk metal. My tastes in metal and rock were limited but I found myself intrigued by the foreign instruments and languages at play after I had heard some while abroad. I made a note to myself to look into the darker sense of fashion present in the bands and their fans, possibly starting a gothic wardrobe for fun.

At the end of the hallway, at the last painting, my eye had been caught by the slight but unmistakable off-angle it sat with. I took a moment to glance back at the other paintings and found them all sitting at the same minute yet noticeable angle. Without much thought I determined the most probable cause to be Winston's shaking hands as well as his poorer eyesight leaving him likely unable to detect the minor difference. I took but a moment to straighten them as to not ask Winston to do it and proceeded down to the kitchen.

While I find the full details of my breakfast rather inconsequential to this account, I will mention that it was full and hardy and by the time I finished I was well awake and aware. I prepared myself a cup of tea, though I would discover later that there had been a mistake in doing so though I could not determine how such a thing occurred until much later. The gym was on the other side of the building, taking me back through the main foyer and beyond to the eastern wing. Again, the details were inconsequential save for one of the windows Winston had mentioned, this one in the hall leading out of the foyer and into the wing. It was closed though it had been secured with strips of masking tape and hung very slightly ajar from the constant and powerful winds.

Despite the dreary overcast, the light brought in from the glass ceiling was enough for me to leave the lights off. I set my music to play on the bluetooth speaker I had near the center of the wall by the door and moved to the water cooler beside it, taking and drinking a cup before beginning my stretching. Once finished, I approached the treadmill. It was older and I had meant to replace it for some time but a treadmill was basic enough of equipment that I hadn't found much reason to do so other than merely wanting a new one.

I stepped onto it and set the speed to just over a comfortable jog, the thumping of my feet matching the beat of the music now changed to a cheesy 80s and 90s workout station of which I will never deny my fondness of. I had set the timer for fifteen minutes and for the first five nothing remarkable occurred. I believe just after the five minute mark was when the window behind me opened slowly enough for me to not hear it but the wind was still cold enough to notice within seconds. The chill crawled up my spine as if it were a centipede climbing up step by step. With the treadmill stopped and timer paused, I turned and stepped off to inspect the window.

The cold was intense as I approached it though not impossible for spring and as I should have seen coming; despite my best effort to close the window tight it merely crept open again within a few seconds. From beside it I could better hear the howling winds and the rain, now having picked up again. I resigned myself to leaving it for now as working out would shield me from the stinging cold. As I turned back to the treadmill I looked down and chuckled to myself at the sight of my nipples prominently poking through my bra, far more sensitive than normal. I remember biting my lip at the thought of stripping the bra off and continuing my workout nude in front of numerous uncovered windows. Though I do not consider myself a person overly dependent on sex, I am still a woman and occasionally I found myself wishing to partake in various sexual urges. After all I had the manor to myself for a week of rest and relaxation, it wouldn't be unheard of to want physical release.

My clothes once more hit the floor and again I was jogging though now I smiled and laughed like I had acquired a touch of madness from the cold air wafting across my skin. I watched my breasts, admittedly very large and therefore necessitating the bra, bouncing as if I were guest starring on an episode of Baywatch. It was fun for a time and thoroughly distracted me from my workout until a sudden and booming crash erupted from the opposite side of the room. The rack holding my hand weights had, without any prior warning, broken apart and sent every weight crashing down to the floor.

I ended my run prematurely to inspect the damage though I did not care to put my clothes back on. I can recall still being in a playful mood despite the violent and incredibly jarring noise startling me considerably. The rack appeared to still have its upper connecting beams in two of the slots between the legs and then popping out of one side when it broke. The lower beams, however, looked to have serious rust damage. Looking at the beams I could see much of the ends had horribly eroded and broken, leading to the whole thing immediately falling down with the legs splaying outwards.

I took a moment to line the weights up when I felt a growing pressure on the back of my neck. It first felt like a finger and a thumb pinching the sides in the center of my neck and reaching backwards, cool and very consistent. The feeling crawled downward as it spread to my shoulders without releasing its grip on my neck. I paused for a second after lifting another weight and feeling it spread again as if triggered by moving the weights. I set it down and released it, preparing to stand up straight. For a brief second it felt as though there was physical resistance to this, that not only was I being held but for a second I was being held down. It wasn't enough to hurt and even as I write this I cannot be entirely sure of just how much pressure I actually felt. A gripping hand is all I can think to describe it as and once I stood, it dissipated.

I will admit that this point of the account falls into the information that feels superlative but I will maintain my dedication to thoroughness. Once I rose I felt a warmth in my chest as well as stemming from my slit, a warmth that permeated my skin and reacted to the cool breeze that seemingly targeted these spots. I felt numerous breezes run across my lips, teasing me until I couldn’t think anymore about the workout. Something felt incredibly satisfying about every chill touch and soon I found that attempting to continue to ignore my needs would be difficult. I made good on the realization that I could do anything during my time alone and returned to my room to get dressed and leave the manor.

 

It had become obvious as to what concoction I had prepared myself at breakfast by the time I had reached the town. The roads were safe enough for the commute and my drive was furthermore uneventful save for the changes in my body. Deep in the Amazon jungles an undocumented, or at least undocumented by official entities, tribe had grown a very unique herb that greatly increased the milk flow of women to better feed their young and I had unwittingly consumed a drink containing the herb and was thoroughly shocked to see its effects during my flight home. I will be honest; I brought a sample home thinking it merely to have a rather pleasant taste but doubting the other effects and have been growing it finding that a small amount would be largely harmless yet yield far greater sexual sensitivity after experimenting with it after realizing it did what they claimed it did. What I had consumed for breakfast had not been a small amount and upon reaching the shop a few key differences had occurred.

The shop had a quaint outer appearance but the inside left me rather unsure of myself. The layout was pleasant and the floor space larger than I had anticipated. As I entered, surely a look of confusion painted across my face, I was approached by the shopkeeper. She was notably shorter than myself despite wearing huge black leather platform boots coming up to just below her knees. She approached me almost immediately; her movements bouncy and bubbly only emphasized by her lack of a bra. She wore a loose, black mesh crop top ending in long and frill-tipped sleeves and on her rather supple breasts were metallic teal seashell pasties with a stylized scale pattern. Her straight hair was jet black and came down to her knees, flanked with large teal twin tails above and behind her ears. She smiled at me; her eyes bright blue and her smile wrapped with teal lipstick.

“Heeeeeeeee-llllloooooooo!” she sang to me as she approached, “Didn’t expect any customers with the rains the way they are!”

Though I was far from my normal state of mind, I did my best to be kind to the odd woman.

“Hello. I was hoping to browse for a spell. I’m not entirely sure of what I want.”

My eyes scanned the store as I said this, taking in the sights and stock.

“Well I’ll have you know that our DVDs and magazines are buy two, get one mix and match, some of the toys are on sale so keep an eye out for orange stickers. Uuummmm…”

She turned from me for a moment, her short black pencil skirt revealed to be far too short to cover any of her pleasant behind as well as confirming her thong was teal to match her other fashion statements, revealed with the swishing of her hair allowing glimpses meant to tease. Her face was young and she looked around the store with a wide smile.

“Oh, and pasties are also on sale!”

She said this while wildly shaking her breasts for emphasis and giggled loudly as she did. I remember being incredibly taken aback by her every action though I couldn’t deny that she had a rather adorable air about her. I believe myself able to handle people in most any circumstance but she was so incredibly forward that I found her just a bit much at the time. 

“Thank you,” I said far less confidently than I wished I had, “I’m going to look around now.”

“My name is Sabrina if you need me!”

“Lara.”

I didn’t mean to sound so short but I didn’t really know what else to say. To my right I found the large shelves of DVDs and further on were the magazine racks. I passed through them fairly quickly, only occasionally stopping to look at the women displayed on the cases but finding nothing immediately interesting. Past them was a wall entirely made up of the toys: numerous varieties of lengths, colors and some kept away from the lines of hanging pegs and cheap plastic packaging. Glass cases sat across from the wall of pegs and the contents ranged from huge vibrating wands to dildos modeled after animalistic cocks or unreal ‘fantasy’ designs. One that caught my eye was a massive thing by human standards; it was called ‘the Raptor’ and was a dull red at the sheath and brighter red in the body. The head was flared out and pointed at the bottom. It's size was thinner than my forearm but roughly the same length.

“Ever use one of those?” 

Sabrina had, without my noticing, moved from the front counter to behind me. A wide and knowingly cheeky smile painting her cute face.

“Some normal ones, a vibrator or two. Nothing this…”

“Unique?” 

“That's a good word for it.”

Sabrina opened the case and retrieved the Raptor, offering it to me. I took hold of it, feeling the impressive weight.

“Personally,” she started, “I just can't quite get off the same way without these. They come with suction cups and reservoirs to fill with their custom fake cum lube!”

I watched her gush over each of them, listing their materials and sizes. Her oriental eyes were wide open as she handled a larger one with a canine knot.

“This one is my favorite by far.”

“Oh?” I blankly responded, unsure of what to say.

‘Every time I feel the knot fill my pussy and get stuck in juuuusst the right way, it blows me up and kills me.”

She bent forward with a look of mischief.

“These are all fifteen percent off, by the way.”

By this time my body began to burn with the need for release. I remember being fascinated with her thighs and wanting to see her legs spread wide. Her thong was the same shimmery metallic color as her pasties and against her skin, they shone brightly no doubt to purposely catch eyes. My eyes moved away from the case and her thighs and towards a far off wall with shelves holding bondage equipment. One piece caught me eyes, especially given my physical state.

“Is that real?” 

I pointed to what looked like a milking machine one could find on a farm. I knew of this kink but I'd never actually seen one myself. Sabrina looked to it before snapping back to me, grabbing my wrist and taking me to it.

“I personally love these things! They have all kinds of settings for suction speeds, timers, all kinds of things!”

It was a small silver machine lacking notable details save for an empty tank, a few knobs and buttons, and two small see-through cylinders attached via hoses. Sabrina pulled it down and set it on a table, pressing the hoses against her breasts, going on about a video series she often watched involving them. Watching her, my eyes were drawn to the tattoos above and below her breasts: both centered around wide moons bearing stars within them, the upper moon smaller and flanked from right to left with leaves and crystal spikes with small wires dropping below and holding teardrop stones. The larger tattoo rested and wrapped under her breasts with wide wings, offering much the same as the upper tattoo but with more of everything and far more detailed. As I looked back to her, realizing I hadn't been paying attention to her words.

“So you think you might be interested? I can see you're well equipped for th-holy shit!”

Sabrina moved forward and pointed at my chest. I didn't realize what she was pointing at.

“I was more talking about your size but I didn't know about that!”

I moved my coat aside to see that I had begun lactating through my light gray top. The tea had caused me to gain two cup sizes and the milk stains were growing as we spoke. I could feel my face growing hot in what must have been an embarrassing blush but I didn't cover myself.

“Could…” she began,” I see them?”

I thought for a moment, unsure of what to do.

“Are there cameras?” I asked timidly. 

Sabrina trotted to the front, her plentiful ass jiggling with every excited step. She began locking the door and turning the sign from open to closed. She returned and clasped her hands together, clearly ecstatic.

“I don't have cameras in the back!”

 

I lifted my top as she bent forward as if she were about to be shown gold unearthed from a deserted island. My breasts were soaked in milk and steady drips continued to pour out from me. Her smile was as enthusiastic and genuine as before. 

“Miss Lara, I have to say these are absolutely peeeeeerrrrrrrfect! Could I possibly touch them?”

Without realizing, I turned my face away and covered my mouth but turned back as to not offend her.

“Oh, i'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! You don't have to let me-”

“It's alright,” I looked at her chest, “you can if I may touch yours.

Her eyes lit up and she immediately lifted her top. I placed my hands on her porcelain skin, soft and warm. I was already a cup size above her without the tea but she still must have been at least a triple D. Her hands held and squeezed me gently, drawing sprays of milk bursting over her chest much to her delight. She brought her hands under to lift them and immediately her expression became one of disbelief.

“I work out every week. Don't worry about my spine.”

She laughed and stepped backwards, catching herself on a table.

“They're such an amazing size! I have a weakness for busty beauties.”

“Normally they're smaller, but I have a tea that made them grow two sizes and cause the milk flow.”

“Oh my God! You have to tell me where I can get some! Could I…” she looked a bit awkward for a moment but her smile remained, “Could I have a taste? I'm just really curious.”

I remember being too horny to immediately deny her but it didn't take me much thinking to answer.

“Sure.”

“Do you want to put in a cup or like, spray it into my mouth or-” 

“You could just…suck on them…”

Her face lit up like a spotlight materialized on it, her hands clapping as she bounced up and down like a child on Christmas. She immediately latched into my right nipple, her lips full and warm as her tongue flicked under my stiff nub. I felt her sucking tightly, her eyes closed but a clear expression of satisfaction spread over her. She let go and her hot breath poured over my skin. I looked down to see she had left a teal kiss around my nipple.

“Oh my, I'm so sorry to be forward but it tastes really sweet and I love sweets and your skin is so soft and-”

“May I be forward for a moment?” 

“Yes?” she said with a bounce.

I reached behind her head and pulled her forward, kissing her soft lips and feeling her tongue immediately move to find mine, her head leaning back to reach up to me. She pressed her body to mine as we kissed, her hands moving to feel my ass. I put my hands on her wide hips and closed my eyes, tasting a hint of sweet milk on her. I pulled back for a moment to look into her bright blue eyes. She was already panting and smiling like she had won the lottery.

“You know…I could give you a little demo of the machine. I've always wanted to use one on someone.”

It only took her a few minutes to retrieve it and get it running. It was much quieter than I thought it would be and she asked me to sit up on the table. I did so, feeling less awkward about what we were doing but I still burned with the need for more. I had never before moved so quickly into anything this overtly sexual with someone I had just met but something about her remained so cute and endearing that I just couldn't leave her. She planted another kiss on my breast before attaching the hoses, light and small. The suction quickly held it to my nipples and I watched my milk spraying into them. It began slowly with short and rhythmic pulls and every one of them elicited soft moans from me. I laid back on the table and unwittingly began to spread my legs.

“Would it be okay if I went down on you? You don't have to return the favor, I just want to taste more of you!”

I nodded to her without a word, my breath still spent panting from the building pleasure in my breasts. Sabrina began to undo and pull down my jeans, reaching under my panties and carefully pulling them down around my ankles. She lifted my legs and placed my thighs on her shoulders. I felt her lips press against the skin just above my slit before moving down.

I will admit that it wasn't the first time someone had gone down on me but Sabrina was a new experience. She started slowly, passionately, kissing my lips instead of just shoving her tongue in as fast as she could. It was more akin to a lover kissing their other after months of separation. Each kiss was slow and full, her tongue only occasionally rubbing against me. As her tongue finally presented itself fully, it ran from bottom to top before pressing deep inside me. My back arched and I ached for more despite any reservations I may have had. My hands ran over my breasts while I watched milk flowing into the hoses and her head bobbing between my legs.

I wanted to grab her twin tails and hold to her me, I fought the physical twinge of my legs trying to close on her but the feeling of her tongue probing my walls, deeply and hungrily devouring my body, left me feeling a desperation I never knew I had. But for a brief moment I snapped out of the immense lust though I cannot pinpoint why. I lifted myself from the table, switching the machine off and removing the cylinders.

I looked to Sabrina, a look of confusion and worry on her face, “I’m sorry. This was too much, too fast.”

She moved out from under me and I rose to get dressed, glancing up at her standing rather stiffly and avoiding eye contact. I turned to her as I pulled my top down, placing my hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll buy the machine and a few other things.”

The next few minutes or so were painfully awkward but her smile returned as she wrung up the items. I asked to purchase the machine we had already used to keep it simple, having emptied the tank into a cup as to not risk it dislodging from its mount during the ride home, and chose a selection of other items for later. I still felt urges pulling at my mind and body but I needed a more comfortable environment despite how pleasant Sabrina had been.

“I’m really sorry about what happened but if you ever need some more fun stuff, maybe you’ll come back some day?”

I could see a hint of regret in her face as if she felt she had tried to talk to a pretty girl and she laughed at her. I retrieved an old and faded receipt from my purse and began to write down my phone number before handing it to her.

“Feel free to text me whenever. I’m not doing anything for some time so maybe we can chat, meet up again, grab dinner,” I saw her face lighting up again, “Maybe I could eat you for desert.”

I played my hand at being forward again, deciding I would rather like to spend more time with her. She giggled and jumped before stepping out from behind the counter, applying more of her lipstick. She stopped before me with a look of determination mixed with her goofy smile.

“Mind if I leave you with another something?”

Perplexed, I nodded. Sabrina lifted my top and placed a matching kiss around my bare nipple marking both of them. She planted two more on the tops of my breasts before stepping back and winking.

“I hope it isn’t too much to ask if you’re doing anything tonight?” she asked with a rather bold tone.

“I know you’d love to hear me say ‘you’ but I’m not certain yet.”

I looked at the time on my phone, realizing I hadn’t really thought about what to do today.

“Let’s chat in the meantime. I’ll let you know what’s going on later.”

Sabrina gave me a hug and waved goodbye through the window as I rounded the corner back to my car. I wouldn’t know it yet but having met and ‘bonded’ with her would serve far more than mere need for sexual release.


End file.
